Chapter Text
Stadi: “That's our ship. That's Voyager. Intrepid class. Sustainable cruise velocity of warp factor nine point nine seven five. Fifteen decks. Crew complement of one hundred and forty one. Bio-neural circuitry.”
-
With her feet propped up on the edge of her desk, Beverly settles in to read through the crew files for Voyager . She had meant to read them ahead of the mission, but she hadn’t found the time. She desperately needed a break from Starfleet Medical and had been itching to go back to space for a while when this three week mission crossed her desk. She’d never signed onto a mission so quickly in her career, assigning herself Chief Medical Officer without a second glance.
She looks through the captain’s file, pleased to see her determination shine through the long list of accomplishments. Two crewmen bustle into sickbay and her team of nurses greet them; she recognizes one from the news - something about an admiral’s son and the Maquis. As tension and voices grow, Beverly sighs, dropping her feet off her desk with a muffled thunk. New carpet - she notes - not even stained yet.
She drops her hands to the front pockets of her jacket, gracefully stepping between the men. “The captain asked if you were on board - you should check in with her. If you don’t mind the company, I’ll come with you both.”
The (criminal? She really wishes she read the news more often) taller man just glares over her shoulder, while the younger tugs on his arm, his voice cracking slightly. “Well I haven’t paid my respects to the captain yet either.”
Beverly chuckles. “Well, no time like the present. Gentlemen?” She waves to the door, indicating the men should walk ahead.
-
Janeway: “Gentlemen, welcome aboard Voyager.”
Kim: “Thank you, sir.”
“Mister Kim, at ease before you sprain something. Ensign, despite Starfleet protocol, I don't like being addressed as sir.”
“I'm sorry, ma'am.”
“Ma'am is acceptable in a crunch, but I prefer Captain.”
-
“Dr. Crusher, reporting in.” She waited behind Tom and Harry, barely stifling a laugh at Harry’s eagerness. She steps forward as they head to the bridge. “I meant to stop by earlier but we had a few crewmen with injuries come in. Nothing major - just minor abrasions from stacking cargo incorrectly.”
“Ah! I am glad to meet you - I’ve heard only good things from Starfleet, and your record is admirable. I do have a few questions to ask you about your research once we’re on the way.”
Beverly grins, excited to have someone out here interested in her studies. “I’ll be happy to explain it! Perhaps over dinner this evening?”
“That sounds perfect - we should be in clear space by then. I’ll call you when I finish here.”
The first officer’s voice comes through the captain’s combadge. “Cavit to Janeway.”
Kathryn’s smile remains as she answers. “Janeway here.”
“We’re ready to go. Please come to the bridge.”
“On my way. Janeway out.” The captain stands, walking around her desk to Beverly. “Shall we?” She follows her out, walking with her to each duty station. As Kathryn introduces each officer, Beverly nods. She really needs to read the crew rosters sooner rather than later; all these faces are largely unfamiliar.
The captain settles into her chair, gently patting the arm rest next to her, and Beverly sits on the bench to her right. She leans back, trying to find a comfortable seat on the unyielding metal. She still has paperwork and files to get through, but the thrill of starting a new mission, watching the departure from the bridge? Much more exciting.
Once they’re free from DS9, Beverly quietly excuses herself; she looks forward to discussing her research with the captain later over dinner.
-
Janeway: “Can we go to warp?”
Stadi: “Not until we clear the plasma field, Captain.”
Kim: “Five seconds.”
Janeway: “Brace for impact.”
-
Clamoring to her feet, Kathryn glances around the bridge. Her first officer is sprawled on the floor in front of his seat. She crawls to him, confirming what she already feared. Cavit is dead.
Tom quickly confirms that Lieutenant Stadi is also dead. After unsuccessfully trying to make contact with sick bay, Kathryn sends Tom and Harry below as she begins to get reports rolling in from elsewhere on the ship.
Harry hesitates while relaying information. “Captain, if these sensors are working, we're over seventy thousand light years from where we were. We're on the other side of the galaxy.”
Her heart drops through her stomach, even more adrenaline racing through her veins. She kicks her coffee mug on the way to her seat, further staining the carpet; there’s not enough coffee in the universe to get her through today.
What happened to her easy three week chase and retrieve mission?
-
Tom opens the doors to sickbay, finding the entire room engulfed in flames and thick black smoke billows into the hall. The medical staff are strewn across the floor and over beds, burns disfiguring them beyond recognition. Tom chokes on the smell of burnt flesh and hair, trying to discern if any are still alive - no one is moving.
As Harry tries to smother the flames with an extinguisher, Tom starts trying to find a pulse in any of the crew. He crawls to the doctor, recognisable only because of her long blue coat and red hair. Her upper body is completely burnt, her face and hands particularly badly. As he tries to find a pulse, she groans, rolling her head to the side. He hears Harry activate the emergency medical holographic program as Tom tries very hard to ignore how he is pretty sure he can see bone.
Blinking into view, the doctor looks straight ahead. “Please state the nature of the medical emergency.” He immediately kneels next to Tom and Beverly.
Tom holds out his tricorder. “Multiple percussive injuries and major burns across her upper body.”
The EMH begins scanning her, finding the burns are somehow even deeper than they appeared. “Status of your doctor?”
“This is our doctor.”
“.4 ccs of trianoline.”
“Trianoline?” Harry looks around, trying to find something among the shrapnel littering sickbay’s floor.
Tom reaches across the space to grab an instrument, shoving it into the EMH’s waiting hand. “We’ve lost our nurses too.”
“How soon are replacement medical personnel expected?”
Harry grimaces. “That could be a problem - we’re pretty far away from replacements right now.”
Tom finishes clearing debris from a bed. “You’ve got to save this one, Doc. She’s all we’ve got beside you out here.”
The EMH sighs. “A replacement must be requested as soon as possible. I am programmed only as a short-term emergency supplement to the medical team.
“Well we may be stuck with you for a while. Will she be ok?”
“She’s stable but needs medical attention immediately.” The EMH looks up to see both men staring at him. “There’s no need for concern. I am capable of treating any injury or disease.”
Tom and Harry exchange a glance, eyebrows raised. The EMH gives her several injections before reaching for a deep tissue regenerator. As he begins work on the doctor’s face, he sends them away to attend to incoming casualties.
The EMH finds himself suddenly alone, everyone gone from Sickbay. He hits his combadge. “This is the Emergency Holographic Doctor speaking. I gave no permission for anyone to be transported out of Sickbay.” The silence continues and his impatience grows. “Hello? Sickbay to Bridge. I believe someone has failed to terminate my program. Please respond.”
He sets to work tidying instruments - might as well be useful if no one will turn his program off. The wink of a transporting device sounds behind him and he finds the prone form of Beverly on one of the biobeds. “I don’t believe I gave you permission to leave.”
He pulls a tray around behind him and gets back to work on treating her burns. He regenerates deep tissue and muscles over the worst areas on her face and hands, rebuilding the doctor from the inside out.
-
Beverly blinks several times, finding herself staring at sickbay’s ceiling. Only a few days into a new mission and she’s already being treated for something - must be a new record for herself, she thinks wryly.
She sits up, groaning through pain searing through her skin, and deeper aches throughout the rest of her body. She glances into the office to see the EMH working before grabbing her now burnt jacket. Unfurling the folded jacket, Beverly sighs - most of the shoulders are completely gone, charred edges the only indication they were ever there. She’s going to need a new one as soon as possible, also a new record, she thinks with a wry smile. The smile quickly drops as her skin protests the movement.
She shakily reaches for a medical tricorder, scanning herself to figure out what happened. Newly repaired burns span most of her arms and face - that explains why her skin feels so tight. The new skin is pristine, though, and she does admire how expertly everything has been healed.
The EMH slips into the lab behind her office, and she swings her legs to the ground, standing with a groan. Beverly tucks the tricorder into her pocket and heads to her office to unearth a new jacket from a cabinet behind her desk. The ship rocks - now they’re under attack? On her way to the door, she grabs a medkit, just in case. Red alert lights flash through the ship as she runs for the turbolift, grateful for the grip bars as she wheezes. How long had she been asleep?
The turbolift doors open onto chaos; she spills out, lurching into the handrail above the captain’s chair. The Caretaker’s array explodes on the viewscreen as the ship rocks with more shots from Kazon ships circling Voyager . Her new skin stretches painfully over her hands, threatening to split.
Her com beeps. “EMH to Dr. Crusher.”
Keeping a tight grip on a rail with one hand, she taps her badge with the other, keeping her eyes glued to the view screen. “Crusher here.” She should have known he would track her down.
“I don’t believe I gave you permission to leave sickbay. You must return at once.” Janeway glances over her shoulder at the commentary, nodding to Beverly before looking back at the mess outside the ship.
“Sorry Doctor but I don’t believe I need your permission. There are injuries up here and I’m taking care of them. Crusher out.” She cuts off his spluttering as she signs off and kneels to scan the science officer on the floor.
-
Janeway: “I'm calling to warn you to move your vessels to a safe distance. I intend to destroy the Array.”
Jabin: “You can't do that!”
“I can and I will. End transmission.”
-
Beverly leaves the EMH behind to work on paperwork, coming to the bridge as they begin their journey home. She lowers herself gingerly to the bench beside the captain’s chair and waits for the captain’s return. If she thought the seat wasn’t comfortable before, now she mirthlessly wonders if it’s a deterrent to keep people away from the captain.
As Kathryn enters, the officers stand to snap to attention. Beverly joins them but with a noticeable delay - she hopes Kathryn doesn’t mind as her knees protest. She watches Kathryn rally the troops, stopping in front of each officer. For being a new captain, she holds herself with a confidence Beverly admires - this isn't something the academy can teach and yet she appears to handle it with ease.
“We're alone in an uncharted part of the galaxy. We have already made some friends here, and some enemies. We have no idea of the dangers we're going to face, but one thing is clear:
“Both crews are going to have to work together if we're to survive. That's why Commander Chakotay and I have agreed that this should be one crew. A Starfleet crew. And as the only Starfleet vessel assigned to the Delta Quadrant, we'll continue to follow our directive to seek out new worlds and explore space.
“But our primary goal is clear. Even at maximum speeds, it would take seventy five years to reach the Federation, but I'm not willing to settle for that. There's another entity like the Caretaker out there somewhere who has the ability to get us there a lot faster. We'll be looking for her, and we'll be looking for wormholes, spatial rifts, or new technologies to help us. Somewhere along this journey, we'll find a way back.
“Mister Paris, set a course for home.”
Tom nods, spinning around to face the con. “Aye Captain.”
As Kathryn sits, Beverly and Chakotay take their spots on either side of her.
“Engage.” Kathryn stares dead ahead, blinking quickly to try to erase the tears before they spill over.
Watching the stars fly by as the ship jumps to warp, Beverly blinks back tears of her own. She watches the viewscreen for a while before checking in on the EMH’s progress, flipping through numerous memos on a padd. She needs to discuss the level of detail in his communications - short and sweet would make her life much easier.
She finds nothing pressing, and shifts uncomfortably. Beverly’s getting very stiff, and her stomach growls, apparently hungry. Guessing the captain hasn’t made time to eat either, she leans over the console between them, gently touching Kathryn’s arm to pull her away from the viewscreen. She fights back a grimace at how her skin pulls across her arm and hand; she knows how long new skin takes to settle in but she’s sure it takes longer and longer the older she gets (or, perhaps, she’s just less patient).
“Captain, would you mind if we had a word in private?”
Kathryn turns to her, blinking hard to keep a tear from falling. Her eyes scan across Beverly’s face, taking in the fresh pink skin. “Not at all, Doctor. Chakotay, you have the bridge.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Beverly stands gingerly stretching her legs out one by one, and clenching and relaxing her hands several times. Kathryn gestures across the bridge to her ready room and Beverly leads the way.
As the doors close behind them, Beverly turns to her. “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but how are you doing with all of this?”
Kathryn avoids making eye contact, walking over to look out the window instead. “Physically, I’m fine. Otherwise…I’m not quite sure yet.” She clasps her hands behind her.
Beverly stands beside her, quietly watching the stars fly by, waiting for Kathryn to speak again.
“How are you, Doctor? I read how they found you when we arrived in the Delta Quadrant, and I stopped by while you were still unconscious.”
Beverly sighs, stretching her arms out in front of her, spreading her fingers wide before clenching her fists and dropping them into her pockets again. “Fine enough. Sore, mainly, and this new skin doesn’t quite feel like my own yet but it will in a day or two.” Her stomach growls audibly and they both chuckle. “I am starving though - have you eaten yet today?”
Kathryn glances at the doctor before gently shaking her head. “Haven’t had the time I’m afraid.”
“Good thing I’m here then - does soup sound acceptable?”
“I don’t suppose coffee counts enough for you?”
Beverly laughs, walking to the replicator. “Two vegetable soups, 1 tea with milk and sugar, and 1 coffee, black.” She takes the tray as it appears, setting it on the table. She sits with a small groan and pats the seat next to her. As Kathryn sits, she hands the coffee to her followed by soup. She grabs her own soup welcoming the warmth that seeps into her hands.
She leans back on the couch. “You know, I’m supposed to be presenting my research at Starfleet’s medical conference right now. It was my final step to getting that captain’s pip and while they hadn’t confirmed it, I was set to become the head of Starfleet Medical again. I don’t think that’s going to be happening anymore.”
Kathryn laughs. “We can always split the job if you’d like.”
“Somehow I don’t foresee that working out well. Besides, could you really see yourself as anything but the captain?”
“I suppose not.”
Kathryn sips at her soup. “My dog is expecting puppies sometime next month. I guess now the best I can hope for is meeting Molly’s great great great grandchildren.”
Reaching over, Beverly touches Kathryn’s arm. “You’ll get us home, Captain.”